Net Drama
by Porsheee
Summary: Iko and Liam are starring together in a net drama, even though most of the time it takes all their effort not to strangle each other. But when that urge to strangle changes, they struggle to find even ground, especially since they're family members of the two biggest rivals in the entertainment industry: the Linh's and the Kinney's. COVER ART BY CANVASCONSTELLATIONS ON DEVIANTART


It was part of her job, kissing him, she thought. She'd always been good at detaching the act from her everyday life, for everything that happened on the set was fake, even that, _especially_ that.

Episode twenty three of season one. The first time their characters kissed. The first time they admitted their love.

The first time Kinney refused to look at her as he left, not even throwing his usual insult. Very not typical of him at all.

Then again, Kinney was new to the profession. He'd gotten the role out of sheer luck, and while his acting skills soon made it apparent why he got the job, she still wondered, had he never kissed someone while filming? Because there was something in the way that he held her, in the way that he kissed her, that made it feel...different. Off. As if it weren't only acting, as if he were trying to tell her something with it, something he'd been pushing as far down in him as possible, something that he'd been holding back for a long time.

Iko wiped the sweat off her forehead, shaking her head as the treadmill continued to revolve, legs moving fast and getting nowhere. It was obvious he hated her, hated her family, and nothing he said or felt could ever make up for the words he threw at her, the ones he clearly believed.

She didn't care if it was his fault or not. Words like that had no excuses, none at all.

But still, she wondered. She wondered what it meant, the fake kiss that didn't feel so fake. The lack of insults as she left.

Actually, he'd been acting strange all week, avoiding eye contact except on set. But no use worrying about it, she thought. For he was a jerk, and she was a star.

She bit into a nice, chewy protein bar and smiled. That's right. She was a _star._

* * *

Liam couldn't care less about her, he told himself. He even hated her, like his family and those before it. The Linh's had always taken all the glory from the Kinney's, stealing the spotlight with cheap inventions and bad hit songs and starring roles in movies the Kinney's should have gotten.

Whoever's big idea it was to star them together was a cruel person with a twisted mind. Everyone knew of their rivalry. Everyone knew of their hatred. And yet...

And yet the more he listened to her talk, the more he realized how human she was, how there was nothing so abhorrent about her after all. And yet found that his insults had less and less grounding, that they fell under his feet as limp rags, barely concealing the _other_ feelings that had been growing like fungus in his heart—feelings that should not, could not exist between them.

There was no use thinking about it. Just more pretending. Just more hiding behind words that had slowly become little more than dots and squiggles.

But at the same time, he couldn't deny it. It would be impossible to, after that morning.

Liam Kinney was in love with Iko Linh. And he hated it.

* * *

 _Cinder punched her shoulder. "Okay, I told you. Now you tell me. Otherwise we won't have equal bribing grounds."_

 _Iko kept laughing, giggles bursting up from her throat. "I knew you liked him! I_ knew _it! All this time and I knew! And you never told me!"_

" _This is why I never told you." Cinder sighed, brushing mousy hair from her forehead. "Any you never gave me an answer."_

" _But Kai! Stars, that boy is hot. I don't blame you."_

 _Cinder's cheeks grew pink._

" _Actually, I liked him for his personality."_

" _Sure, and his big pocketbook. It's alright, honey. I understand." Iko tried to stop laughing, but it was clear there was too much excitement for her to stop._

" _Iko. Who. Do. You. Like. You promised you'd tell me. I can't trust you otherwise."_

" _You don't trust me?" Iko batted her eyelashes in mock innocence._

" _No, not with something like this."_

" _Alright. You get an answer. I don't 'like' anyone. But I normal-like a lot of people. Like you."_

" _You cheater."_

" _I'm just telling the truth." The room grew silent. The crickets chirped outside. The ice cream melted._

" _I'm just...telling the truth." And that's when Iko started sobbing, clinging onto Cinder. "I don't like anyone, Cinder, I don't_ like _anyone, and if I don't like anyone no one can like me back!"_

* * *

Eight years ago, that night. Both seventeen, the night after one of the school dances, when Iko had had enough of watching her friends fall in love without her. She thought something was wrong with her, back then. Why didn't she like anyone they way they did? Cinder and Kai, Winter and Jacin, Cress and Thorne, even Scarlet and Wolf...Why couldn't she love anyone more than a sister or brother or friend or mother or father?

But for the first time, as she applied makeup to her right eye, her heart skipped a beat when the door opened. And not purely in fright, though there was some of that too. One of pleasant surprise, one of...one of...

"The director told me to tell you to hurry up. The photographers are waiting." His voice, just as cold as usual. But there was something else, at the same time; the words seemed a little frayed at the edges, a little tattered, and, yes, a little warm, as if something had melted just slightly, just enough to tell.

"Tell the director that I'm not going out there until I look _perfect._ "

Kinney cleared his throat, and she turned, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course, I know if I were going by _your_ standards, I'd never leave this room."

His cheeks looked pink. She was imagining that, right? It was just the light? Or maybe the room was too hot. She'd always been a little cold, so heat didn't bother her as much.

"When have I ever said you weren't pretty?"

Iko's second eyebrow shot up.

"Probably over a hundred times by now, most literally."

"About that—"

"Go on, get out, I can't do my makeup with you in here ruining my mood."

The door closed, silently. Not a slam.

Iko frowned. How strange. First her heart jumps, then his cheeks go pink, then he says something to her _not_ insulting—though just barely so. What a day, and it was still 9am.

She fixed her frown into a smile, for the cameras. For the people. And for herself.

With all these weird things going on, she really needed a good smile.

* * *

Liam wanted to slap himself. Liam wanted to bang his head on the desk, on the mirror, on any surface that allowed him to. Liam wanted to hide behind one of the pillars, disappear into the shadows until he was nothing but dust.

But there were cameras and the director and _her_ striding next to him, and he couldn't run. All he could do was smile. Smile, smile, smile with those white teeth, smile with the dimple and the shining eyes and everything that make him suited to be an actor.

Loathing himself. Loathing his job. Loathing his lungs for hitching when she took his arm, even though she'd done it a thousand times on set. Even though it was obvious to him how cold the gesture still was, how fake.

Loathing. Loathing. Loathing.

But when he saw one of her blue braids on his shoulder, when he caught her smile in the corner of his eyes, there was something warm. Something almost...flowery. Bright. Springy.

Looking away brought back the darkness, the constant thoughts of how embarrassing he'd been with her this morning, the thoughts about how ill suited an actor he was, how maybe he was really a failure after all.

He started to add it up. Looking at Iko: a wonderful, light feeling. Looking away from Iko: dark, scary, painful thoughts that never seemed to stop, except when looking at Iko: a wonderful, light feeling.

If being with her made him happy, and being away from her made him sad, well, what sort of choice was that anyway? Didn't he want to be happy?

 _The Linh's_ , he thought again. _Those Linh's are no good, not one of them._

They are only good at smiling and singing and dancing and acting and writing and loving and loving and he loved her and he and he and he—

Her arm released his as they stepped into the car. Once the door slammed shut, they no longer had to smile. And they no longer had to act.

That's why she dropped his arm.

She didn't love him. She didn't love him.

And it was all his fault.

* * *

Iko hadn't called her sister in weeks. They'd texted, sure, but Iko's work acting and Cinder's work mechanic-ing kept them from spending any real time together anymore. Iko missed her adoptive sister, missed her so much that, if her schedule even slightly suggested permitting it, she'd fly right back over to Cinder that very second. .

She guessed she could have just texted Cinder for this too, but she needed Cinder to hear her voice when she said everything. And Iko needed to hear Cinder's response, word for word, the way she shaped the letters and sounds, the way she manipulated them. Because Iko was in deep trouble, and she didn't know how to get out.

"Iko!" Cinder said as soon as she picked up, a smile audible from her side of the line.

Iko caught her breath, fighting off tears. "Cinder...Cinder, I think I'm in love. But not with the right man."

* * *

Liam thought he'd feel some sort of release, perhaps, when he'd finally come to terms with it. But the fact of the matter was that it was even more painful acknowledging it, because there was nothing he could do about it.

Sometimes he caught her staring, and he'd get excited just to see her features shaped into a glare. Sometimes he thought he felt warm skin on his arm—warm, unexpected skin, that he knew was hers—but when he looked she was a foot away, head in the opposite direction.

He did get to stop insulting her, though. That was one small victory, one small thing that admitting gave him.

But how could he ever make up to her? Even him, who was the giver and not the receiver of the insults, knew they had been quite nasty. Aimed to harm, to hurt, to kill. He wanted to take them back, erase them with something that could pass through time and space and take them away, take them away, _take them away._

He couldn't, though. It was impossible. And some words never healed, he knew. Like scars, they would always show a mark.

Maybe he could let new words be bandages, new words heal a little faster, piece back together their relationship until they were friendly acquaintances, friends, and then...No, she would never accept him like that. Not after what he had said.

But friends was okay. Friends was better. Anything but this deep, scary, neverending hate.

"Iko," he said, pulling a tie from around his neck.

"What do you want, Kinney." Not a question but a warning.

"I got tickets to Force Awakens for me and a friend, but they backed out on me last minute. I was wondering if you wanted the extra ticket?"

He could see her pause, or rather could hear her. He could still not look at her face.

"You mean I would go with you?"

"You don't have to sit with me, but...but you could." He could almost feel her eyes narrowing.

"Why would I...?" She stopped. But he knew how she would finish it. He closed his eyes, trying to shut out her face, the angry one that was most likely suspicious and mad and always mad because it was all his fault, all his—

"Well, as long as I don't pay for the popcorn. I don't care if I'm a movie star; it's way overpriced."

And then he felt her hand on his elbow, turning him around. He opened his eyes, hoping she hadn't seen them shut.

"Your cheeks are pink," she said in a rush, eyes blinking slowly.

"Are they?" He could have easily said something cutting then, something sharp. But he didn't. No more hiding.

The corner of her lips quirked up, and he swallowed away the nerves of being so close, of her hand on his arm, of that smile.

"Could it be," she wondered out loud. "Could it be that...?"

 _That I am in love with you? That I am a Kinney and you are a Linh and I am in love with you? You have it all wrong; my cheeks are just pink from the acting. I swear I ran up and down that hall at least thirty times. You are wrong, you are wrong, you are wrong,_ I _am wrong_.

"Could what be?"

Her eyes sparkled, just for a second. A trick of the light, he thought. But her smile grew wider.

"No bother in never finding out."

And she kissed him. Reached up and kissed him, and before he knew it he was kissing back, and this was so different from acting, so much better—until she pulled away, sitting back on her heels, lipstick a little smudged and cheeks a little pinker.

"Does this mean you forgive me?" He couldn't stop himself from asking because all of a sudden that was all that was on his mind.

"I never said that," Iko said, tapping her hips with a long, painted, perfect nail. "But let's call it a truce. A truce for, say, another day. Or week. Or month. Or year. Or, if you're really good, forever." She winked, the sparkles on her eyelashes ever teasing.

But this was better, so much better. To see her smiling, and for her to be smiling at _him_? Oh, it was priceless.

He leaned down and kissed her again. Because he wanted to. Because she wanted him to. Because he could.

He was in love with her. And he loved it.


End file.
